Contemplations
by fc2001
Summary: Well, it's just a thoughtful piece told from the points of view of the ER women...
1. Default Chapter

Author's Notes: This was written in approximately half an hour and is based on my own interpretations of different ER women's perspectives on the men around them. I don't know where it came from or why I wrote it, and I apologise if it doesn't make much sense!  
  
Chapter One: "Gunning Down Romance"  
Jing-Mei Chen  
"Enjoy your day off,"  
I said, peeling off and taking a seat on the bench instead.  
"Enjoy your coffee,"  
He tossed back, flashing me a beguiling, slightly crooked smile. I reveled in the warmth his voice stirred for a moment, before dismissing it.   
  
I watched his back recede out of sight, and considered him thoughtfully. He was the dictionary definition of tall, dark and handsome, every little girls dream. And the little girl in me still found her knees slightly weak when he caught me in his intense, soulful gaze, and nearly melted when he spoke in that lilting, sexy accent he had. A more naïve me would have sold her grandmother for a chance with him, for his physical presence if nothing more.   
  
I, on the other hand, undoubtedly a little bitter through past experience, saw the truth in him. Men that good looking were always a dangerous proposition, and his scars just made him more of one. He couldn't let people close, and I knew anyone who wanted to be with him would have to be stronger than I was. They would have to have strength of character and an unshakeable self-belief in order to get anywhere near him without being irreparably burned by the sheer intensity of his pain.   
  
He was the type that attracted admiring glances in the street, the kind of guy who is both an ego boost and soul destroying. Because you can always see the questions in other peoples eyes 'what is he doing with her?' It's difficult to be with a guy you can't ever live up to. You'll always think he'd rather be with someone more beautiful, someone more confident, someone sexier, anyone who is everything you aren't. He is the trophy boyfriend, at least aesthetically.  
  
And his recent whore like activities? He's turned into a thinking girls Malucci, though he can't see it. It's actually a sign of insecurity, and if he thinks no one knows that then he's wrong.  
  
Malucci. Now there's a name with memories attached. The one person in my life I regret not giving more attention to in all honesty. Damn straight, he was the kind of guy your mother always warned you against – the 'love 'em and leave 'em' kind. But as long as you knew that, it was fine. But while I always dismissed him as below me publicly, privately I knew he was a better person than I will ever be. He had a good heart. How clichéd is that? He just never wore it on his sleeve, the way Kovac and Carter have a tendency to.  
  
After all, weren't we both doctors? And wasn't he doctor on merit, because he'd worked damn hard to escape what I suspect was a difficult childhood, while I was just a doctor cause daddy had enough money to buy me back into medicine.  
  
And as for our private lives, well, we weren't so different there either. Sure, he had a different girl every day of the week and was an incorrigible flirt. But I was the one who landed up pregnant after a one-night stand, and Frank wasn't the first empty encounter I'd had. I thought as a professional woman, I was allowed to mess them around before they did the same to me. I considered many of them as just warm bodies on cold nights. That I hid it, to preserve my reputation, just makes me a hypocrite for sneering at him. At least he was open enough to embrace his sexuality and use it while he could.  
  
I know that when word got out that I was pregnant, people speculated it might be his. I laughed then at the very thought and now here I am regretting the fact I never slept with him. He'd laugh at me now. I know he would.   
  
The right woman will be able to tame him, I think. And though he already has a son, I guess his son's mother just wasn't the right woman. And for all I fought with him and brushed him off, don't think I dismissed the idea maybe I could be that woman, which was why I wanted to be more than a cheap lay to him and why I consistently knocked him back. But he left hating me. And I have to live with the empty fantasy.  
  
I spend so much of my life around the same group of people; I can't help but be flattered when an outsider pays me attention. I'm like any woman – I enjoy being flirted with, I enjoy the possibilities. But that landed me alone and pregnant didn't it?  
  
I don't consider myself a beautiful woman, not on the outside and definitely not on the inside. I know what I look good in and play to my strengths, but I've never considered myself above average. I see all my flaws in the mirror – both external and internal.  
  
I guess I was having a minor confidence crisis when I slept with Frank. I was back in the hospital I'd left in such acrimonious circumstances 5 years beforehand, back in the company of the one man who had always confused me more than any other, and I felt a little out of place.  
  
I ignored Michael until he was a bump, and I could see questions being asked by everyone around. And why? Because I was ashamed. I was from a high class, well-respected Asian family, and I was pregnant by a black man as the result of a one-night stand. I didn't care about Frank's race, but my family would. And I was being judged left, right and centre by people who hardly knew me, including my own mother. I'd worked hard to regain my place in the medical community, and I felt I'd undermined all that hard work and myself by being stupid enough to believe sex would be any comfort to my internal conflict.  
  
And more distressing still was my old friend and rivals part in the pregnancy and birth. He can be unconditional when he wants to, detach completely from outside feelings and factors and concentrate on one person completely. He came and was with me when I gave birth and gave away Michael. He was the only person who was there. And that's why it's so complicated. Because for all our friendly competitiveness, and all our shared experiences, I can feel him distancing from me now he's found the woman I believe is the love of his life. I can barely bear it, because I love that man more than life itself, and I always will. I won't pretend he's perfect, because he's as scarred by life as Luka is, but it doesn't matter. But he has been through things I missed, through things I can barely imagine let alone understand. And that's why I know he can never return how I feel, why I know he never will, and why I know I must keep it to myself. I will love him to the end of time, no matter whom else I find to love it will be with half a heart.  
  
Pratt. A very Dave-like character to begin with, but now I see more of Doug Ross in him. He's certainly got that 'bad boy done good' arrogance about him. I can see myself falling for him, to forget everyone else, and hurting both of us more than I'm ready for. He deserves much better than the half a heart I can give him, but he need never know. He was the one who offered comfort when I was nearly killed. When I saw his eyes as he saw me sitting on the floor, it was a strange reflection of the cold, blank fear I had felt with that gun pressed to my temple, but that was fleeting and replaced by, well, confusion I think. I don't blame Carter, after all Abby is his girlfriend and I'm merely a friend, but I appreciated having someone there. Maybe I'll prove everyone wrong and settle down with him, have a family. Well, he's better than some, bears more than a passing resemblance to my empty fantasy at least character wise, and he'd be a good dad, I think. I suspect him loyal to a fault, and if it's good enough for Carol Hathaway, then it should be good enough for me.  
  
It sounds so clinical, making decisions and judgements this way doesn't it? Well, as a girl I believed in romance, as an adult I don't. It's all about compromising, and trying not to think about the one that got away.  
"Penny for them,"  
My thoughts are interrupted by a familiar female voice.  
"One word. Men,"  
I said, sighing heavily and rising from the bench, realizing my break from work and from reality was over. I tossed my empty coffee contained towards the bin, for the first time successful in my aim. I wonder if that's a sign. 


	2. What Could Have Been

I would like to point out now that I am British, and that I've only just seen "Next Of Kin" and so can only write about the show up until that point.   
  
Chapter Two: "What Could Have Been"  
Susan Lewis  
Her tone says it all really. I don't know what's been on her mind, but she's certainly pressed some buttons in my head.  
  
I'm still raw, I suppose, from losing Mark. Up until the day he died, I can't recall a day in my life where I wasn't able to physically function. I had never spent a day without getting dressed, but the day after news broke of his death I didn't get out of bed.  
  
I feel pathetic for it. I hate myself for it. I wasn't strong enough to ever tell him I loved him. I ran away to Phoenix, left him standing on Union Station broken hearted, knowing full well where I wanted to be was in his arms. It was too difficult to stay, to hard to be with him, so I ran.  
  
I ran back 5 years later, to watch him die. I didn't know when I made the decision to return and if I had I would have stayed away. Am I a coward for saying that? Yes. Am I a liar? No. No for the first time in this 5-year fantasy I'm telling the truth. And I was jealous of Elizabeth. I wanted to be her. I'm not proud of it, it shames me that I grudge either of them happiness. I had my chance and I lost him. I couldn't expect another woman to be that stupid.  
  
I would never have wished him any less than happiness, but I did wish it was me, me who got to go home to him, to see him first thing in the morning and last thing at night, me who had carried his child, but it was all hurtfully selfish. At the end of the day, I was just a friend who didn't call as much as she should have, who didn't care enough about him to admit she loved him. And now I never can, but that's my fault and I got to live with it.  
  
He could have been the love of my life. Pretty much everyone I've ever been out with 'could have been' if I'd given them more of a chance. But, as it turns out, most of them were destined to be the loves of other people's lives. Div Cvetic to name one, and of course Carter to name another.  
  
Was I kidding myself? I don't deserve him and I never have. I just wasted his time, because he was safe. I knew him and I knew how incapable of hurting me he would be. And I needed reliability, having just come out of such a combustible relationship in Phoenix. But we never had any chemistry and it was never going to work. I wanted him to still be that naïve, sweet, slightly clumsy but endlessly caring med-student that had been quite obviously infatuated by me under some pretension I was something special. He wasn't, and that's not his fault. He has been through too much to be that person anymore. Besides, I was hung up on Mark and he was head over heels for Abby. I don't think breaking up hurt either of us, because I think I'm too jaded to bother anymore.  
  
And I'd be happy to be by myself, if I wasn't acutely aware of the possibility of plunging headlong into yet another dangerous workplace dalliance. He's too dangerous. The man should come with warnings attached, to be honest. No good can come of an attraction to a man that good looking. Sure, what red-blooded woman wouldn't want him in their bed? But he's not long-term material, not for someone as weak as me. I'd just be another on his list of recent conquests and even I know I'm more than that. So I must avoid temptation and try not to flirt with him, because when you play with fire you will, as I've learned, get burned. 


	3. Fairytales

A/N: I know she left a long time ago, but I've always had a soft spot for Anna. We never really knew her, and that's a crying shame.  
  
"Fairytales"  
  
Dr Anna Del Amico  
  
I am supposed to feel over the moon, am I not? It's my day. My wedding day. I'm the belle of the ball, Cinderella. So why, when I look in the mirror, do I only see the Wicked Stepmother? My mom is fussing about me, cooing over my dress and veil. I am her only daughter, and I think my settling down is long past overdue in her opinion.  
  
This marriage has so many strings attached before it even begins. With my history, how could it be condition free? I'm too old to even be getting married, but the ring matters to Max and to my family, so I'll do it for the peace and quiet.  
  
In the mirror, images I want to forget haunt me. In my eyes, I can see the hurt I caused by leaving Chicago. I can still see his face as clear as it was yesterday. I hear that he is getting married soon too, or at least that he's thinking about it. I may never have met Abby and know nothing about her bar her first name, but I know she's lucky. She's his one. So maybe my breaking his heart left the way clear for destiny, but that doesn't mean I can forgive myself for it.  
  
I think today scares me because I've got to stop running. I can't just leave when the going gets too emotional for my hardened heart. To say I loved him is beyond clichéd and irrelevant now, but it was true. He was the first and only man that I would happily and instantly entrust my life to.  
  
I ran from him. He was the single most special person I'd had the good fortune to meet, and he inexplicably felt similarly about me, but I ran from him. I chose Max because he was what I knew, he was all I knew. I can't change what I did to Carter, much as I regret it, much as I know it was my worst mistake ever. I can't go back to him, and I wouldn't want to. Things have gone beyond sorry, if not beyond words. I wish him every happiness, and I can't bring myself to trivialize this by being jealous of a woman I've never even met.  
  
I will walk down the aisle and into the security of marriage to a man who's love is certified by the fact that he wouldn't have a career or for that matter a life without me. It is his face I will see every morning till death parts us. Maybe I wish it differently, but what's for you won't go by you, and Max didn't. 


	4. Irreplaceable

Author's Notes: Yet another departed character I loved! I've never tried to write her before, so I hope it's believable enough.  
  
"Irreplaceable"  
  
Carol Hathaway, R.N  
  
My mother still thinks I am insane. She never liked Doug, not in the years I was with him. She would rather I had married Tag that day, just for the sake of it, and lived a passionless, trapped life the way she had. She resented me for being able to be with the one man who made me happy.   
  
Not one cell in my body has ever doubted that getting on that plane and flying away from Chicago was the right move. He had implored me over and over since he left to come and join him, and why I left it so long before giving in is something I don't understand.  
  
I was trying to be a strong and independent single mother. I was proving my point to the world and working myself into the ground whilst doing it. I tried to pretend that my babies were my world, that my body didn't miss his touch to the extent that it was an almost physical ache. I tried to live without him. But I couldn't. I've never been able to live without him, not from the moment I met him.  
  
Our path to this life we lead today has been somewhat pockmarked. His infidelity, my suicide attempt, my infidelity and his resignation have meant that our relationship has been strained over the years. The most recent bump in road undoubtedly came with the news of Mark Greene's unfortunate death.  
  
Mark Greene. The best man I have ever known. Doug doesn't mind me saying that, for he knows it's true. I often wondered why I could never fall in love with a man as good as Mark. He was the light to Doug's dark, the foil my husband so badly needed on occasions. He suffered – because of us, and from outside sources and he didn't deserve it. I couldn't go to his funeral – Kate was ill – and I regret that. One day when they're old enough to understand, I'll take my daughters to the grave of the greatest man I ever knew. I only hope for now that he's resting in peace, and doesn't take my absence for cowardice.   
  
I know I left misery in my wake when I left. I tried to salve some of his pain, but my soothing words I sense fell on deaf ears. I couldn't lie to him. I couldn't be with him when my heart was in Seattle with the father of my children. He deserved more than that. So, yes, I kissed him. But it was a forced and empty encounter, more to prove I could be physically attracted to another man than anything else. It only served to push me closer towards the decision I was already halfway to making that day.   
  
But from the misery and the heartache has sprung something solid, something irreplaceable. Waking up to Doug, Kate and Tess and the cacophony that is our house in the morning makes me feel more alive than I could ever be by myself. I never thought I'd be contented let alone happy. But life, life's always been out to prove me wrong! 


End file.
